


A Night to Remember

by PrismPunkie



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Falling In Love, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Pre-War, Racing, more tags to come if i continue this, rating WILL change if i continue this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrismPunkie/pseuds/PrismPunkie
Summary: Hot Rod has been saving up his shanix to get the hell off of Cybertron before it blows itself up. Little does the red speedster know, he's going to have his world changed forever when he meets Lieutenant Thunderclash of the Autobots, who has been looking forward to some excitement as he and his team explore the city of Nyon for the night.
Relationships: Hot Rod | Rodimus/Thunderclash, Rodimus/Thunderclash
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	A Night to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been holding onto this because it's a 3 parter but idk if the next parts will ever get written. So take it as a one shot for now lol. I have actually tried to post this twice but both times it got deleted from my WIPs because I just didn't feel like the time was right to post it. I feel like it stands well on it's own, though if I get enough comments maybe I'll get the spark to finish it.

Thunderclash was so excited, this was the first time he was going to get to go out into the city and enjoy the nightlife of Nyon. 

After the Autobots established a base on the outskirts of the city, Lieutenant Thunderclash hadn’t had much time to do much of anything besides take orders, fill out paperwork, assign patrol shifts, and listen for the Decepticon terrorist movements. His captain had delegated many tasks to him within the first month, the only downside to having an impeccable work effort. Thunderclash didn’t really mind, he liked accomplishing tasks, and he was positive it would all pay off eventually.

And so it did, he was given two days respite to enjoy himself in the city, or take rest at the base but how could he pass up an opportunity to explore a new location? He hadn’t done a lot of sight seeing in his academy days and he was eager to make up for it. He was nervous too, he had to look after a few of his cadets as well. They had invited him along more like, but they were younger bots from the colonies who all were still very new to things on Cybertron. He had to make sure none of them got in trouble with the wrong sort of bots, which he had heard that Nyon was full of.

“Paddox, Proxima, Velocity, huddle up will you?” Thunderclash said briskly to garner their attention away from the glittering lights of the city in front of them.

“Yes Lieutenant?” Chimed Paddox, ever eager to please.

“You can just call me Thunderclash, we’re off duty for now.”

“But sir! That could result in a bad habit!” The cadet shook his head vehemently.

“Well if you feel so strongly about it I won’t tell you what to do but I really would prefer you use my name.” Thunderclash clapped his arm with a heavy pat on the shoulder and looked between the rest of them, “Now I’m sure you all read the notes on this city, but just in case you didn’t, I’ll remind you: the upper districts are fine, the outer districts can be a little sketchy, but the innermost lower levels should be avoided. We’re on leave, sure, but that doesn’t mean that the Decepticon terrorists will take us lightly. They’re hiding within the city for now but they are still a threat to us. Keep your optics up and your shanix in your subspace. Oh, and stick together, we’re stronger in numbers.”

Thunderclash transformed into his car mode and revved his engine a few times, “And of course, try and have some fun!” He laughed before speeding off, his cadets in tow.

* * *

Hot Rod skidded to a halt and transformed with a flourish.

“Sorry I’m late, thanks for waiting for me to start the race,” He said to the bot in front of the entrance to the race stadium, “See you inside.” He said as nonchalantly as possible.

Unfortunately he wasn’t fooling anyone as a large pede stomped down in front of him. He put his hands on his hips and glared up at the bouncer indignantly.

“Is there a problem?” He said, half-feigning ignorance. He looked at the doorman, “Crank?”

“You know the rules Hot Rod, you’re too small to race in this class.” Crank said unapologetically, “Go race with the minibots.”

“I’ve beaten all the minibots, and their prize money is barely _half_ what you give the real racers!” Hot Rod stomped his foot in anger, “I’m plenty fast enough for this race!”

“You’ll get squashed before you make it off the line.” Crank said, folding his arms over his chest and sneering down at him, “Now piss off little Hot Rod.”

Hot Rod fumed at being called ‘little’ but turned to leave, glaring over his shoulder as he did. He would show them who was little! It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t race. He was far faster than any of the minis because his engines were bigger. He just had a lighter frame than the bigger bots so they automatically assumed he couldn’t keep up with the rest of the racers. But he clocked their speeds, he _knew_ he was faster. They just didn’t want a bot from the slums beating their best. With their stupid shiny paint and glossy finish…

Hot Rod kicked at the ground and crossed his arms, cursing his rumbling tanks and his paint job that had small peels around the edges.

He looked over to the audience entrance to the stadium. The crowd was bigger than usual tonight. He spied the usual faces of the owners and the gamblers, the on-staff medics who never failed to have an emergency every night. But among them he also spotted at least 4 new faces. They weren’t Nyonian, that was for sure from the look of them, and they traveled in a group.

“Tourists…” Hot Rod muttered under his breath. He could hear them chattering excitedly from where he stood.

“I hear Nyon boasts some of the fastest racers on Cybertron!” One of them said.

“They say that but there hasn’t been a Nyonian to win the Ibex Cup in _ages_.” Said another.

“They could still run circles around any of us!” Said the biggest one there with a rumbling laugh, “Either way it’s sure to be one heck of a show.”

Hot Rod couldn’t help but stare at that mech. His paint job was striking, though not really in a good way, the contrasting teals and yellows paired with red on his legs and white on his chest was almost laughable. His handsome face was perhaps his saving grace, with a strong jaw and expressively bright red optics juxtaposed to his brassy faceplate. 

Then, as if he felt him staring, the big bot turned to look at Hot Rod. His ruby optics were surprisingly gentle as they locked with his own blue ones. Then he _smiled_ at Hot Rod, his hand waving at him lightly, and his lips curling around perfect dentae. He could feel the warmth of that smile igniting something within his chassis, electricity zipping up his spinal strut as those red optics held him in place. And then he was gone, disappearing inside with the rest of the crowd. 

After a moment of dumbly staring after the big mech, Hot Rod puffed out his chest. If they wanted a show… He was going to _give_ them one.

* * *

Thunderclash looked out at the race circuit. He hadn’t been to an arena like this since his early academy days, and that was quite some time ago now.

“Oooh, let’s sit here!” Velocity exclaimed, ushering the rest of the group to where she was, “We have a perfect view of the straightaway and turn one!” She said pointing out towards where the racers were lining up.

“Here?” Paddox said, craning to look over the rest of the seats, “Isn’t it safer to be higher up? I hear these races sometimes have flying debris…”

“Trust me, Lotty knows what she’s talking about.” Proxima chuckled as she pushed Paddox over to the seats.

“Yeah, turn one comes right after the fastest part of the track so if there’s going to be crashes we have the perfect spot to see them!” Velocity said, grinning. Paddox spluttered.

“I-I don’t know about this…” The nervous bot looked at Thunderclash.

“Not to worry Paddox, the stadium seating is supposed to be very safe. We will be fine, I assure you.” He said giving the cadet his best smile.

“Alright, i-if you say so Lieutenant.” He sat down next to Velocity, still wringing his hands.

“It’s starting!” Velocity chimed as they took their seats, Thunderclash sitting in-between Paddox and Proxima. 

The announcer began to read off the names of the racers and the track sponsors, Thunderclash tuned it out for the most part. He was more interested in scanning the crowd, hoping for a glimpse of that handsome bot he had seen at the entrance. A few bots behind were grumbling a little about Thunderclash’s height so he tried to make himself as small as he could while still keeping an optic for that bright paint job and golden spoiler.

“So,” Proxima began from beside him, “Who was that little red bot you were waving at Thunderclash?”

A blush bloomed across Thunderclash’s faceplate, “So you saw that?” He chirped nervously.

“I see everything.” As if to make her point, one of her extra optics rotated to look at him from her helm.

“I thought you said you’d never been to Nyon before?” Proxima continued, “You looked awfully friendly with him.”

“I-I was just trying to be nice, I caught his optic on the way in a-and I didn’t know what else to do…”

“Ooooh, sounds like Thunderclash has a crush!” Velocity teased.

Thunderclash’s blush deepened and he stammered, “W-What? No—I don’t even know him!”

“But you’d like to wouldn’t you.” Proxima chimed in.

“He must have been pretty handsome! What did he look like Proxima?” Velocity said, her teasing tone intensifying, “What’s _Lieutenant Thunderclash’s_ type?”

“Small, red and gold, speed frame. Had a spoiler on his back.” Proxima stated like she was reading it off a list.

“He wasn’t red.” Thunderclash corrected, “Where the light hit him you could see his color was a deep magenta.”

“I guess I didn’t notice.” Proxima didn’t even try to hide her smirk as Thunderclash felt his embarrassment peak.

“A pink bot eh? Better watch out, he might be more likely to tear your throat out than give you a kiss.” Velocity said, but her tone was only half joking.

“Th-This topic seems a little inappropriate,” Paddox murmured, “The Lieutenant deserves his privacy.”

“I don’t mind,” Thunderclash said, laughing, “It’s all good fun! We’re supposed to be having fun remember?” He clapped a good natured hand on Paddox’s shoulder.

“Yes sir! B-But—”

Whatever Paddox was about to say was drowned out by the roaring of twenty speed frame engines as they came off the line. Thunderclash and the rest of them whipped their heads to watch as the racers took off, barreling towards where they were seated at the first corner. Then something bright caught Thunderclash’s optic, bright magenta and gold and coming in from behind the pack of racers. An onslaught of spectators broke out in mutterings as the announcer cried out through the speakers:

_“Looks like we have a late edition, some minibot has broken onto the track and is approaching the back of the pack at blazing speed!”_

“Is that?”

“It couldn’t be!”

“It’s that minibot Thunderclash was waving at!” Proxima hissed at the rest of the group over the many voices who were shouting incredulously now.

Thunderclash watched as the pack disappeared around the next two turns and he looked up towards the screens displaying the rest of the track. Already the smaller bot was passing the cars in the back, his small frame allowing him to slip by them with ease. Thunderclash couldn’t help but stare in awe at the screen. He remembered briefly those blue optics that had stared him down, full of so much curiosity and mischief as well as clear determination. And a big part of Thunderclash was rooting for the minibot to win in that moment.

_“Security tells me that the new edition is a local mini known by the name of Hot Rod. Looks like he got tired of competing with the smaller bots!”_ The announcer’s voice cackled, _“If he get’s crushed though, that’s on him!”_

A twinge of fear shot through Thunderclash then. That’s right, contact was allowed in Nyonian races, even encouraged, because it was all about making a good show. Which was why Nyonians didn’t often race for the Ibex Cup, which didn’t allow contact at all. Thunderclash swallowed dryly as he watched. The minibot, Hot Rod, was now halfway through the pack, square in the middle of it all, and still gaining on the rest of the racers.

“Hope he’s got some stamina, there’s still a lot of laps to go and that’s a wicked pace to keep.” Velocity noted.

“I think Thunderclash is hoping he’s got the stamina for other reasons.” Proxima said, elbowing Thunderclash in the side. He didn’t even register what she had said at first and couldn’t formulate a proper response before the announcer rang out again.

_“Looks like Hot Rod is on the attack! He’s gone from ninth to seventh—no wait sixth! The other racers just can’t touch him!”_

It was a little overwhelming, Thunderclash wasn’t quite sure where to look as the numerous cars traded places. At one point the whole crowd let out a gasp as one car, aiming to hit Hot Rod, careened into the side of another racer, the whole pack scattering in the wake of the crash. Hot Rod had fallen back two places to avoid being hit and there were still 30 laps to go. Thunderclash wasn’t sure how much more he could take but luckily the pack became much more spread out and Hot Rod managed to find a pace that kept him away from the rest of his opponents.

“Ooooh, the guy in third is about to blow a tire!” Velocity said, cringing.

“What, how can you tell?” Paddox said, leaning forward.

“He’s been pulling to one side for a time now because his tire pressure is too low on his front left wheel. It’s gonna go—” The third place racer squealed his brakes as his tire blew out, unable to dodge in time the fourth place racer slammed into him in a tumble of metal and rubber.

“Wow Lotty, you’re good!” Paddox said in amazement.

“I’ve just been to a lot of races, Caminus only had a few a year but I made sure to go to every one of them, I had a few friends who loved competing.” Velocity said, the nostalgia clear in her voice.

Thunderclash was only partially paying attention as he kept his optics trained on the track. The racers had just hit the straightaway and were coming at them at full speed once more. With only a few more laps to go the racers were starting to make more dangerous maneuvers on the only straight portion of the track. He could just barely glimpse Hot Rod’s paint job behind the leaders, fighting for fourth place with a mech who was nearly twice his size. The bigger bot was edging him into the wall and Thunderclash felt his vents hitch as he watched. 

They were coming up to the corner now which meant that they would have to slow down in order to turn and avoid hitting the wall. The question was; who was going to slow down the most to let the other pass? The answer was almost neither as they came so close to the turn and at the last second the bigger bot hit his brakes. Thunderclash stood up from his seat, half expecting to see Hot Rod hit the wall, just in time to watch the mini let his back end fly out as he drifted around the corner. Sparks flew as the edges of his spoiler scraped the wall, causing many of the bots in the crowd to groan, that _had_ to have hurt.

“Hey big guy, down in front!” Growled a bot from behind Thunderclash. He sat down quickly, feeling embarrassed and keeping his optics forward. He could feel his companions smiling at him regardless.

There was only 5 more laps to go now but Hot Rod was still behind the 3 leaders and had a lot of ground to cover.

_“Hot Rod has given it his all tonight but it looks like he’s running out of energy, with only five laps to go it would take a miracle for this little mini to pass all three leaders!”_ The announcer said over the speakers.

“That little mini deserves a drink after all this, don’t you agree Thunders?” Proxima nudged him, “Maybe you should ask him where there’s a good spot to fuel up?”

“Yeah, Thunderclash, and maybe you two could have some time _alone_.” Velocity giggled.

Thunderclash was about to retort when a burst of flame caught his optic and his spark almost leapt out of his chest. Coming around the final turn into the straightaway, Hot Rod was blazing up beside second place and making short work of closing the distance on first. His magenta chassis was literally on fire as he veered sharply into the first corner, neck and neck with first place. Thunderclash could feel the heat scorching himself and the audience as it whisked by.

_“I don’t believe this! Hot Rod is presenting an unprecedented challenge to star racer_ _Velotrix,_ _will he be able to take first place from the current champ?!”_

By now the crowd had devolved into shouts and cheers of Hot Rod and Velotrix’s designations. The rest of the racers couldn’t even catch up to the two as they sailed around the track. Hot Rod’s flames died off to a cinder as he whipped through the corners, trying to get the upper hand on his opponent. Several times Velotrix tried to use their larger mass to bully Hot Rod off the course, swapping paint on more than a few occasions. Velotrix’s bulk and aggressiveness kept Hot Rod from being able to pass, as he would have to pull away in order to avoid being hit.

Thunderclash found himself having to remember to vent. His companions were also so caught up in the race that they had forgotten their attempts to tease him into oblivion. Every bot was on the edge of their seat, holding their breath as the racers rounded the last corner and into final lap. Hot Rod was once again blazing down the straightaway, coming straight for the seats where Thunderclash sat. Velotrix wasn’t veering towards him this time, probably seeing that if they turned their wheels they would lose valuable speed to keep the mini from passing them completely.

“Go Hot Rod!” Thunderclash realized he was standing now and shouting now with the rest of the crowd, “You can do it!” As if maybe Thunderclash’s own will could affect the outcome of the next few moments.

Going into the first corner Velotrix had the inside but, in an attempt to crowd Hot Rod into the wall and not paying enough attention to his speed, they spun out and ended up leaving a large gap for the mini to slip past. The crowd erupted in a series of groans and cheers. The race was far from over as the bigger car gave chase. Hot Rod didn’t have enough in size to keep the much larger car behind him with aggressiveness, so he had to play smart. He put himself where the big bot wanted to go, practically twitching in an attempt to read the bots movements. He couldn’t let him get even half a length beside him or run the risk of Velotrix ramming his side.

With only four corners to go, Velotrix seemed to be growing tired of the smaller bot’s antics. They rammed into his back end on a corner, jolting Hot Rod into a barrier. The mini swerved back on track, smacking into Velotrix’s side as the bigger bot almost passed him. Thunderclash thought his spark was going to burst free from his chest plates as he watched the mini be nearly pushed into another wall but the flames from Hot Rod’s chassis appeared to be torching his opponent’s paint. Velotrix veered away from the heat, freeing Hot Rod at the last turn and onto the straightaway. By then, Velotrix stood no chance of catching him.

The flag came down and Hot Rod spun across the finish line with a flourish, transforming into root mode. Thunderclash felt his spark skip. Looking at the magenta and gold bot earlier had not done him proper justice to his beauty but here under the stadium lights he shone like a star. His chest plate was shaped like flames, his golden crest looked like a crown on his helm and his vivid blue optics burned with triumph as he put his arms up in a cheer. Velotrix, now transformed into their own root mode, came up to Hot Rod and gave his hand a shake. It was almost funny seeing them together, with the smaller bot only coming up to the bigger bot’s mid-chest. 

He wasn’t quite a minibot, Thunderclash mused to himself, but he was still pretty small. He felt an elbow nudge his side and he looked away from Hot Rod for the first time since perhaps the race began and he noticed the optics staring at him now. Staring optics with knowing smirks attached to the faceplates. Thunderclash felt his face burn with the heat of his blush.

“What?” He asked, though he already knew.

“You’re so smitten!” Velocity said with soft optics, “We have to go down and try and meet him!”

“Oh I don’t know about that!” Thunderclash said scratching the back of his helm. Another nudge came from his other side as Proxima pointed down to the track.

“Look, he’s coming this way, wave at him!” She insisted.

Indeed, all the racers were making their way towards the first corner where they had set up the podiums. Thunderclash was about to protest to waving when his optics locked once more with mischievous blue ones. Hot Rod was staring right at him and he may very well have been staring _through_ him, his face with a huge smile blooming across it. Thunderclash couldn’t find the motivation in his processor to do anything else besides vent as he held that gaze. Then, to his astonishment and complete embarrassment, the gorgeous speedster winked at him.

That’s when Thunderclash fell in love. _Hard_.


End file.
